My Patron Saint
by BunnyEars89
Summary: Meegan and Bridget were just a pair of best friends before a set of twins came into their lives. Set after the 1st movie. Rated M sex, language.
1. Good Friday

DO NOT OWN!

CHAPTER ONE: Narrator

Meegan McLeod leaned against the ally wall wheezing and bleeding; her boxing gloves still on shielded from the night air of Boston. It was a perfect fight. The kind of fight that left her shaking and scared. She had almost killed that girl, and even though the crowd was deafening, she could hear very hit squish with blood. But she didn't stop. Meegan was known in the underground boxing circuit as Good Friday; she was every opponent's day of reckoning. She made sure of that.

"Need a cigarette?" Meegan jumped at the sound of the old man's voice. "Look like you need a cigarette." He said again.

She took off her cherry red gloves, covered in blood. "Thanks." She said taking the cigarette he had lit for her. Meegan had talked to men after fights before, and most of them wanted to know if she would hit them… in private… But this one was different. She felt like she was in a place of mutual respect. Like he had torn into a guy or two before.

"Good Friday's a hell of a name," this time she noticed his accent. It was Irish. It sounded good.

"I didn't pick it. My brother did."

"Either way, it suits you. Tell me, what's your real name?" He asked locking eyes with her. His eyes were so intense, but right now they were friendly.

"Why? So you can tell the cops?" She huffed. He laughed and dropped his cigarette grinding it into the pavement.

"Curiosity," he said. She knew that wasn't all.

"And?" She said as quickly as she could think.

"I think I knew your father."

"No one in Boston knows my father." She said hoping he really didn't know him. Her father was a murdering piece of shit.

"There are a few in Ireland that know him."

She turned wide blue eyes to this man, unconsciously holding her breath. She held her eyes still but checked him for weapons. The only way this man could know her father was if he had been in a maximum security Irish prison the last twenty years. She dropped the last bit of her cigarette and ground it out like he had.

"I have to be going." She said picking up her gloves and turning to go back inside. He grabbed her elbow, knowing she could beat him to death if she felt like it, but doing it anyway.

"Meegan, you don't have to live the life of your father. No one has to."

"Don't worry, sir. I don't." She said, more sure of this than anything else. He smiled at her kindly and nodded as he let her arm go. She stepped inside the door again, thinking of her paycheck. Then she realized he had gotten her name and she had no idea who he was. But when she turned back to the alley he was already gone.


	2. Crazy Bitch

DO NOT OWN! They boys show up in the next chapter. And THANK YOU to my one reviewer!

**CHAPTER 2**: Narrator

The crowd was insane. The Dropkick Murphy's were blasting over the box-fresh sub-woofers Nick Flynn had just bought. The Departed had started some kind of fire in Boston's underground. People were fighting in the streets, drinking up a storm. Meegan couldn't tell if it was a celebration or a revolution. She didn't care. She was making loads of money. People bet on her five to one over every opponent. Almost killing Bridget Kelly put her in a bar basement ring every other night. In Wall Street terms; Good Friday's fall quarter was predicted to be her highest earnings yet.

She stood in the steep stairway wearing a hood waiting for Nick to play her entrance song. From where she was she could see a sliver of the crowd. There were a lot of young people in the audience this time and lined the ring along with the usuals. And there were a few people on the wall she KNEW were mafia; it's an attitude. It looked like a dance party, or riot around the ring. There was dust in the air from the dirt floor, smoke from cigarettes and cigars, and a haze of sweat. Everything was building like a perfect storm. 'I'm Shipping Up to Boston' ended and Nick, cigarette hanging from his mouth and his dark green shirt half open, started playing Molly Kildare's entrance song, 'Back In Black'.

Meegan smiled. The entire bar shook with movement. This was going to be a fuck of a fight. Molly was tall, meaning she had a longer reach, therefore, a huge advantage. Molly jumped around in the ring and screamed for the crowd to love her and they did. Molly with her crooked nose, yellow mouth guard and green gloves branded with clovers. Meegan looked at her own gloves in the near dark of the staircase, and started thinking what she would scream.

That was when Nick clicked his keyboard to play Buckcherry. Meegan waited through the first tones of 'Crazy Bitch' before bursting through the door. The crowd erupted in screams and whistles and chants of 'Friday, Friday, Friday!' Nick could barely be heard over the crowd and Buckcherry saying "Welcome back your champion Meegan 'Good Friday' McLeod!"

When Friday was finally climbed the ropes into the ring she pulled off the hooded sweatshirt she was wearing, revealing black hair, ivory white skin pulled tight over muscles and her light, light blue eyes. Friday threw the sweatshirt into the crowd and she noticed the man. The man who knew her father. But right now she wasn't Meegan. She was Friday.

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Everyone got quiet quick as she paced in a circle around Molly. Nick turned down 'Crazy Bitch' and everyone looked to Friday. "Does anybody know what day it is?" She yelled to the dingy sea of men and few women.

"FRIDAY!" It was Tuesday.

"Who wants to see me KILL MOLLY?" There was a thunderous roar from the crowd. Behind Meegan Molly's eyes grew wide. The house shook with voices, music, stomping, applause. The basement had never been so full. Molly felt sick. 'Everlong' started playing and Friday turned on her victim. Everyone knew that was what was happening. There was a victim and an assailant in every Good Friday match.

The music played through the whole match.

The match was four songs long.

Molly managed to knock Friday on her ass twice, but Friday was faster, had more combination hits and something else. Her x-factor, whatever it was, was destructive beyond reason. Seventeen minutes in it was an official KO and Molly was rushed out by her friends as they took out her mouth guard and took off her gloves. That probably meant they were going to the hospital, but there was no way to explain what happened to her other than she spent seventeen minutes in the ring with a monster. Meegan felt bad about it, but Friday growled in approval.

She ran up the stairs and busted into the alley to breathe October air. She hoped that man from a few weeks ago showed up. She had a dream about him two nights ago… _Meegan stood with the man on the floor of the Sistine Chapel._

"_Meegan," he said quietly, seeming more like an old man, like he was close to death. Her face turned to him and her eyes opened slowly. She felt so much like a child. "Look up Meegan." She looked up at Michelangelo's ceiling and saw herself in Adam's place, her fingers reaching out instead. She gasped, reaching her arm upwards. Her eyes lit up with laughter, like it wasn't real, but there it was. "Look at me Meegan." The man instructed again, but this time when she looked at him he was glowing a soft, warm light. He took her in his arms. Whispered in her ear. "Meegan McLeod, you have been touched by God."_

POP POP POP! Pulled her out of her memory. 'Gunshots!' Meegan thought frantically. Against instinct she ran to see where they were coming from. Rounding the side of the bar where a pair of legs was sticking out of the garbage pile and another man ran down the street at full speed.

"Stop! Hey, hey! STOP!" She screamed after the man running away.

"No." Breathed the man in the garbage pile. "Come here Meegan McLeod, daughter of Neil McLeod and Bridget Dooley, sister of Liam McLeod. I need to give you this." It was him. It was the man that knew her father, and he was holding out a wooden rosary with a Celtic cross on the end of it.

"Wait, wait," she said, picking him up the best she could and moving him to the sidewalk. "Save your breath. I'll have Nick call an ambulance, okay?" As he laid out she could see he was shot through the heart and not just once. He should have been dead already.

"My God," she whispered, saying His name for the first time in years. Then she did the sign of the cross, remembering the motion like her mother's voice. When she finished the cross he put the rosary on her neck, put his hand on her bowed head and said:

"For thee, my Lord, for thee.

Power hath descended forth from Thy hand

Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands.

So we shall flow a river forth to Thee

And teeming with souls shall it ever be.

In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti."

"Find my sons."


	3. Sympathy For The Devil

DO NOT OWN! Reviews are welcome! Also, NOTE: According to the movie timeline, and my story is in 2006, the boys are about 32…

**CHAPTER 3:** Narrator

It was raining. Meegan couldn't sleep when it rained, or when she was mulling over a dead man's last wish. Especially when she still didn't know that man's name. She was curled up, head on the edge of a pink pillow and under a quilt worn from winter after Boston winter. Meegan… alone, sad, scared. These were feelings she was not used to. She rolled over and looked at her alarm clock. Four in the morning.

Two hours ago Meegan was running from sirens, clutching a Celtic cross in her hand, the words 'shepherds we shall be' repeating in her head, breath coming hard and heavy as her feet on the pavement. She hadn't remembered to grab her cut of the night's profit from Nick, or her gloves from the alley. When she realized she was the only witness to a cold-blooded murder all of that seemed so trivial. And that got impossibly more complicated by the commission she had been given. 'Find my sons', he said. Find his sons.

She imagined telling his sons what happened, imagined returning the rosary to them, apologizing for not beating the shit out of the creep that shot their father. Then again… he was an awfully unsettling man. Maybe he didn't know his children. That didn't change her mind, though. She would find his kids. And with that decision she reached peace and she fell asleep.

Meegan watched the news night after night, trying to figure out who this man was. She read obituaries every day hopeful she would find his picture, and perhaps there would be a name next to it. She had been searching for three days and she almost gave up hope until she saw a small notification and a feeling came over her… this was him. Her eyes flashed to the clock. It was three and the funeral had been at two. Meegan read which church and quickly remembered where it was.

She ran the mile to the church in _eight minutes_. Panting and coughing she was about to burst through the front door. Then had a feeling she should go through the back. These feelings were coming frequently and now she could read them faster. She didn't know what they were; it was like being psychic.

Meegan entered the church from the back door and hid in the dark behind the velvet curtains that led to the altar. Candles were burning, the lights of the church were on, the casket was there, and he was lying peacefully inside it, but no one came to mourn. A pit opened in her stomach.

"Miss? Can I help you with something?" A voice asked behind Meegan. She was surprised, but she had killed the natural reaction to jump years ago. She turned to see a puffy-eyed priest. A million questions ran through her head. The cross weighed heavy in her pocket. The man in the casket was deeply religious; the priest probably knew his most intimate details. But 'start simple,' she told herself.

"Who is this man?" She whispered and pointed to the coffin. Whispering seemed appropriate. The priest shifted his blue eyes from her face to the man in the casket like he was deciding to tell her or not.

"Il Duce. He was an assassin. Father of The Saints." Meegan stopped breathing. She just stared at the young, light-haired priest. A million more questions ran through her head, but then something clicked. She pulled the long strand of wooden rosary beads from her pocket and put it around her neck. She held the Celtic cross and looked open-faced at the skinny priest.

"He gave me this."

He looked at the cross. Then the priest put his hand on the top of her head, and closed his eyes. "God, you have blessed this woman. Let me guide her to your other disciples so that she may do your work." She waited. He waited.

"Come with me." He said taking off, and stopping abruptly at the foot of the cross behind the pulpit. She followed him slowly, somehow knowing what she had to do. She knelt at the foot of the cross, thinking she had to say something, but not knowing what. Then she stood and kissed the foot of Christ.

It seemed like slow motion as she and the priest turned to each other.

"Where are his sons?"

Meegan walked slowly home. She couldn't go alone. She couldn't see these boys by herself. She went through the list of her friends and relatives in her head, wondering who, if anyone would go with her. If only Liam was around. Liam always brought her comfort. And loved her. Gave her the name 'Good Friday'. But her brother had been in Iraq for the last six months. He was the reason she always walked around with one hand in her pocket and would stare people down as they walked by. 'Look dangerous,' he would tell her and people on the street never messed with her.

Then it struck her like lightening. The only person she was scared of in this world other than the McManus brothers was Bridget Kelly; the girl she almost killed. Bridget was the best fighter she ever faced. Meegan had postponed the fight three times so she could go through more training and to ward off her fear. Then, during the fight, Bridget wouldn't stop. To get her to quit Meegan had to almost murder her. _Every time_ she delivered another blow to Bridget's temple it was the scariest moment of Meegan's life. She didn't want to kill Bridget. Bridget was a good woman. And… Liam would never forgive her if she killed his lover.

So, yes she would ask Bridget, and Bridget would go with her.

"You sure this is the right fucking place?" Growled Bridget through a wired jaw, wearing a brown leather bomber jacket cut perfectly for her body. Meegan was wearing the same jacket but it was just a bit big on her. She was planning on building her shoulder muscles this winter.

The hotel was on the edge of Boston, more of a tourist hotel than anything. It was nice, but not too nice. Its mediocrity spoke anonymity; perfect for The Saints.

Meegan didn't say anything, just gave Bridget a dirty look. It had been like that since Liam and Bridget met in high school. "So I'm to understand this is the hotel room of the infamous Saints? How do you fucking know where they live?" Her S's hissed through the wires. She looked pissed as hell. The pain made her cranky. Meegan put her in that pain. What made it worse was they both signed up for it.

"A priest told me."

Bridget shrugged and lifted her eyebrows. Meegan had the weirdest adventures when she was left on her own. And that worried Liam, so Bridget usually kept an eye on her. Since the fight they hadn't spoken.

"Knock again." Suggested Bridget.

As Meegan lifted her hand the door opened. Both Bridget and Meegan were taken aback. Two of the most beautiful Irish boys they had ever seen stood in front of them. They were wearing their usual Saints gear: jeans, black t-shirts and the crosses. They were so handsome. Meegan had their wanted posters in her closet. It was a secret, but she lusted after The Saints for years. Seeing them in person was making her weak in the knees, and she was guessing even though Bridget was in love with her brother she was ogling the boys too.

"You girls want something?" Asked Connor. "We're in mourning here, so if there's nothing you want you can go." His face was so opened and pained; blue eyes shining with anger and hurt. Meegan wanted to give them comfort because while Connor was very forward Murphy was standing in the back, staring at the ground. They looked completely lost. So Meegan unzipped her jacket.

"Your father sent me," she said pulling the rosary out and letting it dangle over the plain white t-shirt. The boys gave each other a knowing look. Murphy couldn't believe this was happening.

"Well alright then." Said Murphy with glowing eyes. Connor stepped to the side to let Meegan in, watching her as she went. Then Murphy watched Bridget as she glided by, admiring her red hair and white skin. These girls were pure Irish for sure.

"Wait," said Connor before the girls left the hallway. "Sorry, but as a formality we have to search you." The girls didn't say anything before assuming the position up against the wall. They were usual suspects.

While the girls looked at the wall Murphy looked to Connor and smoothed his hair. Connor nodded, as if to say, 'you look good.' Connor did the same. Then Connor put his hands on Meegan's warm sides, and trailed them down to her hips, brushed her thighs, and circled her ankles, leveling his face with her ass. Connor smirked at his brother as they did the same thing.

Then Murphy's hands came around and reached into Bridget's jean pockets, while Connor reached into Meegan's back pockets resisting the strong urge to squeeze her tight, round booty.

"You find something you like?" Asked Bridget a bit perturbed at how Connor was taking his time on Meegan. Murphy perked up and opened his mouth.

"Why do you sound like that?"

"She broke my jaw." She said, motioning to Meegan with her head.

"Alright ladies, you're clean." Connor said finally. Then he and Murphy gave each other one of their infamous looks, and each pulled out a set of handcuffs.


	4. Weak In the Knees

DO NOT OWN. I think I'm using this word right: Lemons (?) in this chapter between ConnorXMeegan. And please _**REVIEW! **_Also lots of love to my reviewers and I tried to fix some of the grammar. Here's hoping it's better.

**CHAPTER 4: **Narrator

Meegan and Bridget sat on the foot of a bed. Each one had a wrist in a shining handcuff attached to a bed post, and one cuff between them. The boys sat across from them on a couch a bit more than arm's length away. Connor found himself staring at the black haired girl a lot. When he was searching her he wanted to lift her shirt, unbutton her pants, slide them down her legs… 'Wait, what's going on?' He asked himself as the girls and Murphy laughed.

"Aye, what's goin' on?" He asked in an adorable Irish accent. Meegan smiled at him. Bridget lost her smile. In her opinion Meegan was acting like a star-struck teenager. It wasn't professional, it wasn't smart, it was girlish and therefore strange behavior for Meegan. She hated it when Meegan flaked out on her like this. Bridget hated going out on the town with her because this was the way she acted, but she would never approach a guy. She would wait the whole night for someone to talk to her; it made for boring nights.

"Nothin'," Murph assured his twin. "Alright, ladies, we need names and no bullshit." They looked at each other, and Meegan nodded to Bridget. It was okay to talk. They had nothing to hide.

"I'm Bridget Kelly. I live in mid-town, but my family lives on the South side. They have an appliance store. I run a Dry Cleaner's my uncle owns." She said as best she could through her wires. Murphy listened to every strained word wanting to ask if she was with someone. It was relevant, but he didn't want to come off as hitting on her. For right now he could be perceived as friendly.

"And I'm Meegan McLeod. I live in Southie. My father is a piece of shit. I loved my mother. My brother's in the war. And I'm a boxer." Something dawned on Murphy.

"Underground boxing? Both of ya?" They looked at each other and nodded.

"Da talked about that match, between these two," Murphy looked at them wide eyed. "Ya tried to kill each other. You won." He gestured to the light eyed, dark haired, fair skinned Meegan and she looked at the floor and clutched the chain of the cuffs between her and Bridget. Bridget laid her eyes on the floor and let her fingers brush Meegan's.

"It was reputation fight. These things happen." Bridget said as sweetly as possible with a wired jaw. Meegan still couldn't look at her. This was the girl that got her a date to prom, walked her to school every day after 9/11, held her when her boyfriend of two years left her, bought her the pregnancy test that turned positive and drove her to the hospital when she miscarried. One fight wasn't going to change the fact that they loved each other.

The boys were each transfixed on the girl they were sitting across from. Connor wanted to put his hand on Meegan's head; wanted to comfort her at least a little. 'Meegan,' he thought, 'her name's Meegan.' She looked lovely in white, with the cross and plain jeans. Then it dawned on him that she was wearing the cross. His father had given it to her, he knew that. She said 'your father sent me'…

Murphy looked at all the colors in Bridget's hair, looked at her lovely pale hand rubbed red at the wrist by the handcuffs. He had the strong urge to uncuff her then, but these girls were dangerous. He repeated her name in his head. Bridget Kelly. He had heard it before when his dad talked about the match and it had a ring of destiny to it then. Bridget Kelly with sparkling blue eyes and red hair.

"Meegan," Connor had to keep his poker face for this, "you were there when our father was murdered." It wasn't a question, but she answered it like one.

"I wasn't there when he was shot, but I heard it. I was around the corner." She had to keep it together for this. "I ran around the corner and there was someone just booking it down the street. I was gonna chase that guy, but your dad stopped me. He was… just lying in a trash pile. So, I pulled him out of the garbage and laid him down on the sidewalk. Then he put this around my neck." She gestured with her head to her chest, raven hairs falling over her face. "And he said a prayer I won't ever forget… cause I'm pretty sure it was… about killing."

"Say it." The boys said together. Everyone looked at Meegan. Bridget looked in awe, and the boys' expressions were unreadable.

"And shepherds we shall be,

For thee, my Lord, for thee.

Power hath descended forth from Thy hand

Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands.

So we shall flow a river forth to Thee

And teeming with souls shall it ever be.

In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti."

"_Does that make her a Saint?_" Murphy asked his brother in Italian. Meegan looked at Bridget in surprise. They recognized Italian but they didn't know what the boys were saying.

"_I_ _think it does. Why else would he have said our prayer and put the rosary on her?"_

"_He made her a Saint_." Murphy said resolutely.

"_So… does that mean she's a saint too?_" He asked, meaning Bridget. They looked at her and Bridget looked away like she was busy observing the room.

"_No, but she's important. I don't know how yet, but she is_." They nodded in agreement.

"_Isn't that just like Dad to leave us with women, wondering what to do?_" Connor added, running his hand through his hair.

"_It is, but they're not bad looking. So, maybe he did us a favor?_"

"_A back-handed favor_." Then everyone was quiet.

"What now?" asked Bridget, knowing just from their tone that they were done privately speaking. Murphy eyed her seriously. It was his brother's call, but since he spied their wrists were getting sore he'd wanted to release them. Anyone who was close with the boys would agree that Murphy had a couple more feelings than his brother, but it was a sacrifice Connor had made when they became Saints.

"We can't have you running off tellin' everyone where we are, but we don't want to keep prisoners."

"What does that mean?" Scoffed Bridget.

"Means no handcuffs, but you can't leave. Not yet." Murphy responded harshly. She was pretty but she was fiery like her hair.

"We can't leave?" Piped Meegan as she looked into Connor's crisp blue eyes with a desperate look on her face. Liam was calling from Iraq tonight. He was calling her house phone. He shook his head resolutely.

"_Bridget, what are we going to do?_" Asked Meegan in Greek. Murphy and Connor looked at each other astonished.

"_I don't know. They're armed and it's not like we can just promise to keep quiet. They wouldn't believe us_." She responded logically.

"_Liam is calling tonight_." There was silence between them as Bridget turned white. There was no way she was going to miss Liam's call. The call she'd receive at her apartment.

"_Look at them; it's not like they're heartless. Just tell them what is happening_." The boys listened to the Greek but didn't understand.

"_And give away our weakness?_"

"_We already know their weakness_."

"_Each other_," they said at the same time. "_It will show trust if we let them know about Liam. Plus he is in Iraq, what can they do?_" Continued Bridget. Murphy and Connor were feeling a nicotine craving about the same time as they watched their 'captives' come to some secret agreement. They would love to trust the girls. It would make their lives so much easier to let them go home, but about half of the public loved them and half of the public absolutely hated them. Which half they were hadn't been revealed yet, and it wasn't like them to ask.

"We can't stay here." Claimed Meegan.

"Oh al'righ then, we'll just let you walk right out o' here." Said Connor with as much sarcasm as possible, throwing his arms out and leaning back on the couch. Murphy held in a chuckle.

"My brother is calling from Iraq tonight." Everyone got quiet and watched each other. 'Dammit,' thought Connor, 'she's not lying'. He shook his head and swept his hand over his mouth; his subconscious motion that meant he was thinking about smoking. "He's calling me at my house and Bridget at her apartment. Usually he'd call us both at my place, but he thinks were not speaking because of the thing where…"

"The thing where you tried to kill her," said Connor trying to finish her sentence.

"Right," said Meegan, narrowing her eyes at the handsome Irishman. Connor rolled the idea over in his mind. If Murphy approved his plan he would be spending the night alone with Meegan. That was too good to pass up, 'and to be honest,' he thought, 'Murph and I could stand to spend some fucking time apart.'

"Okay." He said.

"Okay?" Responded Bridget.

"Okay, we'll take you home, but Murphy's going with you. And I'm going with Meegan." Instantly Bridget didn't like that. She'd seen what a guy could do to Meegan especially one with loose morals and there's a huge difference between murder and loving-and-leaving a girl; leaving a girl is easier.

"I'd rather you come with me Connor." She snarled.

"Look at you in handcuffs tryin' to make the rules. A-fucking-dorable." He said mussing her hair. Bridget had half a mind to bite him. Meegan didn't think about it. She just wanted to hear from her brother. Her monthly phone call was like a holiday.

"Do what you think is necessary. Just get me home." She finally said.

"Can do, love." Said Murphy jingling the handcuff keys and smiling. This plan was perfect.


	5. The Goodnight Room

DO NOT OWN. Even more lemons. Big drama. Lots of cuddling. Reviews=love.

**CHAPTER 5**: Narrator, **LOCATION**: Meegan's rented room

Connor looked around Meegan's room as they took off their shoes and Meegan changed from her jacket to a fluffy pink sweater. It was the first room he had ever seen in Boston that had a color scheme. It was dark purple, Kelly green and metallic gold. That room was one of the few places Meegan had control and she was going to make it look damn good. The pinstripe comforter of her bed was so neat that Connor didn't want to touch it. The green curtains were filtering the sun and the purple walls absorbed the light and the maple pieces fit just as well with their gold inlay.

"Your room is nice."

"Nice," she repeated the way Connor said it. He looked offended. "Sorry, when I hear someone say a word and I like the way it sounds I say it again." This made him smile.

"Nice," he said again, leaning over her. Meegan felt a warm rush of blood to her face. She thought this might happen. When they were in the car on the way there Meegan drove her car with Bridget in the passenger seat and the boys in the back all hunched down.

"Great incognito," hissed Bridget.

"Shut the fuck up. You're gettin' what you want, aren't ya?" Murphy shot back.

"Meegan," Connor whispered to her on the driver's side. "To your place, and no funny business." His breath on the shell of her ear almost made her shudder, but she held it in.

Meegan drove to her place and then Murphy drove off with Bridget still on the passenger side. Connor said the best way for them not to be I.D.'d was to be apart. So now only Connor stood in her room looking at all of her things. He reached for the closet. Meegan's heart was beating out of her chest, 'the wanted posters…'

"Well it's better than a hotel room," she said too loudly distracting him from the closet.

"That it is," he said, taking his hand off the handle. "How long have you been out on your own?"

"Since I was seventeen. My ma died that year."

"What year?" He was hoping she hadn't been seventeen too recently. He didn't like to think of himself as someone who chased jail bait. 'Is that what I'm doing? Chasing her?'

"Two-thousand one, but she had been sick since ninety-eight," she said casting her eyes to the phone. She didn't like talking about her mom. It was hard.

"That's too bad."

"But what am I talking about. You just lost your dad and here I am blubbering about my mom." She said sitting down on her bed up near her pillows, staying close to the phone on her night stand. Connor sat next to her but down a ways, keeping a comfortable distance.

"Not like it couldn't happen. We're in a violent business."

"But you guys haven't done a hit in months," she argued. His blue eyes sharpened. She followed them closely enough to know that, but was she on their side? "And the guy who shot your dad didn't have a ride, didn't have the right gun, was wearing a red sweatshirt. There were a ton of signs pointing out that he was not professional at all." She said turning her body to him, gesturing wildly.

"I know that." He said quietly.

"You do?" She said, leaning toward him.

"Murph and I already killed him." There was silence in the room. The pair looked at each other blankly. She tried to forget that the Saints actually killed people. They killed a lot of people back in 1999 and they had killed a few since. As attractive as the concept was, killing evil men, it was not a joke, or a charade, Connor really did it. When she didn't know the Saints it was easy to think about and it wasn't an offensive thought. But thinking of Connor covered in the blood of some mafia guy hurt her heart, and it painted him darker in her head. He wasn't the angel she imagined him to be anymore and she hadn't even seen him hold a gun. Every time she had imagined him holding her, cuddled together, warm skin touching, she imagined him having some saintly glow. It was impossible in reality but now it was gone from her dreams as well.

The phone rang and snapped her out of her head. "Liam?" She asked knowing it was one of the two people with her phone number. Bridget being the other.

"Yeah, it's me sis."

Connor waited outside for only a couple minutes before Meegan said goodbye. Then he waited through her crying. He could only imagine the stress of having his only relation left on the front lines of a war. Connor didn't remember very often that his country was at war, but when he did; it pained his soul. What a terrible thing. It wasn't like he was so opposed to violence, or opposed to liberating people from a dictator, or killing men that killed innocent people in terrorist attacks. He didn't like America sending decent young men to do it. He sat with eyebrows furrowed, wondering what to say, if anything, to Meegan. Eventually he gave up on the idea. She was a tough girl even if she was crying. Connor decided she was healthier for it; keeping emotions in is dangerous.

He sat on the floor of the hallway waiting for Meegan. Meegan checked her reflection in the vanity wiping her tears, pulling an ice cube from her miniature fridge hidden in the wardrobe to reduce the puffiness, no matter what her eyes were going to be red but she could blame that on her contacts. She opened her door just a crack to signal it was okay to come in.

The first thing he noticed when he came in was the open wardrobe. Meegan's 'other life' was in there. Her TV, workout videos, boxing gloves, a fridge that probably held protein shakes, trophies that had little golden boxers on top and a title belt. Before he knew what he was thinking he closed the wardrobe. There were things that they didn't want to know about each other. He didn't want Meegan's boxing life to take over the room that held her stylish personality and worn violin. The violin was his favorite item in the room. He looked at her, 'well, second favorite item then.'

"How's your brother?"

"At war." Connor let his eyes fall to the floor, and there was silence. "I'm going to bed soon."

"Alright," Connor nodded. Meegan stepped over to the bathroom. There were two doors in the back of the room on either side of the wardrobe at the foot of her bed. One was the closet. The other was the bathroom she shared with another housemate. The bathroom was an absolute mess, much like Meegan's closet. And there was a small pile of clothes she had kicked under the bed when Connor wasn't looking. There was a drawer in the wardrobe of opened mail and a mess of magazines. Her messiness was a secret, her pristine vision of her room was upheld and she could fend off chaos for another night.

She left the door open as she took out her contact lenses and washed her face. He stood in the doorway just watching her. "You going to watch me shower too?" She asked smiling, knowing he'd get the hint.

"Guess not," he laughed.

"The TV remote is in the drawer of my nightstand and there are books on the shelf."

Connor wandered Meegan's room as the shower ran. He didn't even think she might be escaping. She had too much invested in this place. He looked at her tall, thin bookshelf. A book caught his eye because it had a bookmark in it. Probably what she was reading. 'Twilight?' He read the back of the book and laughed, 'this is so ridiculous. Watch this become a bestseller.' Eventually he decided to watch TV. He took off his shoes and stretched out on her bed. Nothing much was on so he flipped between shows until he heard the shower water stop. He closed his eyes and imagined her dripping wet in the steam of the bathroom, letting a towel fall to the tile floor… 'No,' he told himself as he was getting up. He couldn't just bust into the bathroom and take advantage of her.

"What is happening to me?" He asked out loud pacing the room, remote in hand. He almost never fixated on a woman like this. He would watch one pass by and find her attractive, but he never fantasized like this: it was sinful. It almost brought him to action this time. But there was no way he could do that to Meegan. She was young, emotionally vulnerable, sweet, dangerous… He thought of that last word. Of all the things she was that last one was the least expected, but the most interesting. A shelf full of books, a fridge full of muscle milk. A rattlesnake with no rattle.

"Connor? What are you doing?" She asked from the door of the bathroom. Her hair fell in wet curls around her face and she held a green towel around her body.

"Uh, just feelin' restless." He answered softly.

"Then lay down for a bit. I have to blow dry my hair or I'll get a cold. This room doesn't keep in heat very well." She said even though Connor could disagree 100% at the moment. He was burning up.

"Alright, I think I will." He said sitting on the bed. She smiled and closed the door again. Blow drying took about twenty minutes now that her hair was so long. So when she saw Connor lying peacefully in her bed on his back, chest rising and falling softly, eyes closed that he was asleep. She let the towel fall to the floor as she went in the closet pulling out a pair of panties and a big t-shirt. When she turned she found Connor with eyes closed, still sleeping. What she didn't know was that Connor was awake and just watched her change.

When she laid down he pretended the movement woke him and he rolled on his side facing away from her. He didn't know what else to do. He had to hide his crotch from her. The sight of her perfect ivory form wouldn't leave his mind. And he meant _perfect_.

"Connor?"

"Yeah?"

"How long have you been awake?"

"Through the whole thing, love."

She didn't know what to say. She wanted to ask him if he had liked what he had seen, but then thought that would be a pretty slutty thing to say. Then she wanted to scold him, but that was just because she was confused now. If he had just seen and lied about it she wouldn't be upset at all. She was glad he saw her. Weird as that feeling was she was actually quite happy about it. 'Whatever.'

"Goodnight, Connor."

"G'night, Meegan."


	6. The Goodnight Room 2

DO NOT OWN. Reviews are love.

**CHAPTER 6: **Narrator,** LOCATION: **Bridget's apartment

During the drive to Bridget's apartment Murphy had considered pulling over and shoving Bridget out several times. 'Don't tailgate,' 'that light was red', 'oh, we're taking Jefferson? Way to add twenty minutes to this deadly car ride.'

"I would throw you out of this car right now if Meegan wouldn't kick my ass!" He growled so frustrated he was crushing the steering wheel. Bridget felt the angry energy like an electrical storm.

"She wouldn't hurt you. She would laugh. She doesn't care about me like I care about her." Bridget sounded so sure. Murphy's face fell. He didn't mean to bring up something like that. Bridget felt her face turn red. She hadn't realized she was going to embarrass herself by saying that, but she felt the heat of pain blush her face anyway. Murphy took a hand off the wheel and put it on hers for just a moment. Their eyes met and he let go. It was something no one had ever done for her before. And it felt that way. It was a small touch but it was so goddam comforting. She had received hugs from Liam that produced the same effect but it was because he was hers and she was his. Never before had such a simple gesture said 'I understand, it is alright, I am sorry.'

"Murphy?" She said shyly.

"Yeah," he said so softly.

"Don't tell Meegan I said that."

"Why? If she's hurting you then I'm sure she would want to fix it." The hope in his voice was clear.

"Just… Please, Murphy." So was the desperation in hers. He nodded.

They parked in the parking garage and went up to Bridget's apartment. In the elevator Murphy finally spoke again. "Why is Meegan's brother calling you?"

"We're together." She wanted to add 'I think' to the end of that. She hadn't talked to Meegan about it, but she knew her and Liam weren't forever. She was plagued by this painful thought every day because she had a reoccurring dream about the day they were ridiculously in love. One shining day right before graduation when they won tickets to see Blink-182; it was their happiest, most carefree day together. That night was the first time they made love…

Murphy didn't let his disappointment show. There were other girls, right? He found it hard to believe himself in that moment, but he had time to convince himself tonight. Plus, as pretty as Bridget was, she annoyed the hell out of him. The whole relationship would be 'Murphy, this… Murphy, that.' He was annoyed by the thought alone.

e w

Bridget almost panicked when she noticed someone walking down the hall, coming toward them. Her heart was beating out of her chest. Was it illegal to house an enemy of the state? 'Of course…' She turned to Murphy, worry all over her face. He smirked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Watch this," he whispered. "Hey, man how's it going?" Said Murphy to the man walking by. Bridget's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

"Fuck off." Said the guy looking at his cell phone, completely ignoring Murphy.

"See," he said putting a hand on her shoulder, "nothing to worry about." She smiled against her will. Despite all her complaining about his driving she did feel an aura of comfort around him. He was a good man… better actually.

She unlocked the apartment and threw her jacket on a pile of clothes near the door. The apartment was a huge space. The ceilings were tall, windows were floor to ceiling, the floor was hard wood and all the walls were white. If it weren't for her Ikea furniture and piles of personal items, it would look like no one lived there. It was blank as if she couldn't commit to the space. It was a bad sign as far as relationships went. Bridget knew that. Murphy was sensing it.

"You stay in there," she said walking in front of him, pointing to a room directly across from another one at the end of the hall, which was a ten foot wide picture window. Murphy walked past the kitchen on his left and an open living area on his right to join Bridget at the huge window. It was dark already and there were red lights on the building outside. The way they glowed and shone on Bridget's face made Murphy want to reach out and touch her cheek. He imagined the pads of his fingers grazing her nose and eyelids and more… 'She's committed.' He told himself. 'What's wrong with me?'

Bridget watched these thoughts pass through his expressions; they were so small and so sweet. "Murphy, I- " She was cut off by the phone ringing. "Uh, sorry…"

She walked into her room with heavy feet and answered the phone quietly. Murphy slowly backed up until he found the handle to his room. He turned and walked in. There was nothing inside except a futon and a windowed wall looking over Boston's nighttime skyline. It took Murphy's breath away. He hadn't been so far inside the city for almost a year. After taking off his boots and shirt he pulled the futon all the way up to the window wall and just sat on it looking at the city. He only sat there minutes before he heard Bridget yelling, the phone slammed down on the receiver and then silence.

Murphy got up. "This is a terrible idea," he mumbled as he walked across the hall and peeked in Bridget's open door.

"Bridget?" In a second she had her arms thrown around him. She squeezed him around the chest hard and he squeezed her back even though he was surprised. Surprised this little woman with so much sweet smelling red hair had such a strong grip. He felt his heart leap when Bridget reached up to his ear and whispered.

"Please, sleep in my bed Murphy. No one's been there for so long. I'm so alone." It sounded like she might cry, maybe it was the wires. "I just need someone warm that cares about me at least a little. Just lay with me, please?" Her huge blue eyes sparkled with tears. How could he say no? All she wanted to hear was his soft voice agree.

"Just sleeping," he nodded. And she nodded too.


	7. Meegan in the Morning

DO NOT OWN. Remember this story is rated M? Chapters like this are why.

**CHAPTER 7:** Meegan, **LOCATION:** Meegan's room

It was dark in the room when I woke up. It was too early. The clock read five am. So I stood up and opened the curtains. The horizon was just faintly red. I remembered in my morning haze that I had a guest in my room and that I should already be training today. Pulling the hair tie from my wrist I started to put my hair in a ponytail.

"Don't do that," Connor cooed from the bed. I turned from the window and the small amount of light outside made it almost impossible to see inside. Then he was with me taking a handful of my hair gently tugging it toward him, bringing my face to his. I had been waiting for this. I had never felt such an instant attraction to anyone in my life. And it wasn't just physical. I wanted to be around him constantly, make him smile, make him laugh, tell him my secrets and learn all of his. I finally wanted to be in love with someone. For me it just wasn't a natural reaction. I wanted nothing to do with love until now.

"Meegan, what are ya thinking?" His eyes were catching sunlight. God, they were blue.

"I was just wondering why you haven't kissed me yet." I said shyly, hoping I wasn't embarrassing myself. He smiled and snickered.

"Sorry, my mistake." He put his lips to mine so gently. I gasped and breathed in the scorching air between us. He opened his mouth as he put his hand behind my head and pulled me to him. My hands could not get enough of his warm, solid body. He grabbed me around the waist and slammed our bodies together. It was the first time he touched my torso at all so he stopped us for a second.

"Let me feel this," he said putting his hands on my sides and squeezing, but his hands didn't have much to squeeze; I was solid. By the look on his face I was guessing he was impressed. He slid his hands down from my sides to my hips, then to my ass. He got a good hold on me from underneath, picked me up and brought me back to bed.

"Feels so good," I said as he palmed my breast.

**CONNOR**

I didn't know what to do. Do you wake a girl who's moaning your name, or let her keep dreaming? I knew what I wanted to do, but I wasn't sure how the man upstairs would feel about it. She rolled over and our faces were inches apart; her warm breath on my neck. She moaned.

'Connor Liam McManus get out of this bed right now before you do something you will regret,' I told myself. But I didn't move. It was the honest to goodness first time I didn't care what my conscience said. I reached out and brushed her bottom lip with my thumb. She pulled that lip in and bit it. Sexy. Then I realized looking at her face, this goddam close, with her eyes _open_ would be so much better.

"Meegan," I said softly. I didn't want to shock wake her and have her forget the whole dream. "Meegan, dear?" I said, trying not to watch her hands and where they were going. I couldn't stay in bed any longer. Not next to her. Not anyplace I could hear her either.

I went into the bathroom, turned on the water and sat on the edge of the tub. This was insanity. I met her last night and I couldn't stop thinking about her. Couldn't stop thinking about her naked body, her sexy lips, powder white skin and sleepy voice moaning my name. I was rock hard. I wanted to go back into her room and replace her hand with mine… except… I wouldn't know what I was doing. I knew as much about girls as I knew about rocket science. I knew what I liked about them and why, and I knew the basics of everything. I wasn't stupid about it, but there were… details I was hazy on. Women had tried to do things with me before. Women I didn't love. That made for awkward rejections. I had to tell them my dumb child-like reason why, even though I was ready, I didn't want them to do anything.

I heard knocking on the door. "Connor?"

Crossing my legs, I reached and opened the door from where I was.

"Hi," she said, face flushed, hair messy, lips bitten pink, braless, in underpants. I had to look away.

"Morning."

"You hiding in here?"

"Pffft, no…"

"You're terrible at lying." She said hanging up the towel from last night. I wanted to feel her butt again like when I searched her. "Why hiding?"

"No reason." I lied. She made a face demanding I tell the truth. "I overheard your dream." She made another face, lips forming an 'O'. Then smiled.

"Sorry."

"You're not."

"I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable then," she said more sincere this time.

**MEEGAN**

It only took me a second more to realize he was actually embarrassed. Then I realized why he was crossing his legs and I was extremely conflicted. I wanted to do all sorts of sinful things to and with him, but he looked so ashamed. I had to find out why before I tried anything. I sat on the floor leaning against the storage cupboard. I read in a psychology journal that sitting lower than someone you're trying to pry the truth from was helpful. Something about making yourself vulnerable.

"You look embarrassed."

"Just, uh, thinking o' something embarrassing." He said blushing. I looked at him open faced and nodded.

"I can sympathize." I looked at the floor, "So, you want to talk about it?"

"No, not now." I felt a strong urge to repeat the way he said 'now' but I stopped myself and got up off the floor instead. I bent over him and before thinking about it, kissed him on the top of his head. I opened my eyes wide, my face out of sight, hovering above his head. Why did I do that?

"Okay, I'm gonna change, uh, out there. I'll be done in a minute or two. Let me know when you're comin' out." I had no idea I could talk that fast.

The minute I closed the door behind me a pit opened up in my chest. I felt like crying. I felt bad he couldn't talk to me, that I had embarrassed him, that I fucking kissed him. I know kissing someone on the head isn't a big deal as far as violation of boundaries goes, but it was really intimate. I smelled his hair, which didn't smell like shampoo or hair gel or anything like that. It smelled like skin and heat and someone I could sleep next to for the rest of my life.

I dressed quickly, putting on skin tight jeans, a sports bra, a white t-shirt. As I sat on the edge of my bed and put on sneakers he came out of the bathroom. I didn't look at him.

"Hey," he said softly. I kept tying my shoes. I didn't want to look at him as he told me not to touch him again. "Hey, give me a minute here." His voice was so soft that I looked up. He was so handsome. He was tall and his face was so sweet. He started talking again.

"I like you. I met you last night and I know that I could…" He stopped. 'Please say, 'love you''. "I could get used to you, _really_ get to know you. But you have to be patient. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I agreed. Last time I threw myself into a relationship it never really got off the ground. Maybe it was because we had sex first and then tried to be friends. My appetites got in the way sometimes. It was best that things went slowly with Connor McManus. There was a touch of destiny to that name and it wasn't just because he was a vigilante. There was something about his name that always struck me… because I heard it before he was infamous! "Hey, did you live in Ireland before you came here?"

"Yeah, Murph and I were raised by our mum."

"We've met before."


	8. Bridget at Breakfast

DO NOT OWN. Rated M for chapters like this. Hope you're liking the story. Sorry I was gone for so long.

**CHAPTER 8:** Bridget, **LOCATION:** Bridget's Apartment

Everything was fuzzy when I woke up and then I saw the shot glasses on the night stand and memories came rushing back like water through a broken dam.

"Ohhhhhh God," I groaned, getting up to close the curtains. Then I remembered I was naked and grabbed my shirt off the floor, along with my panties and slipped them on. I shut the curtains and snuck out quietly so Murphy didn't wake up. 'Shit, this is so not like me.' I said to myself as I opened the fridge.

"Ah!" I said as the light from the fridge hit my eyes. I had a massive headache. I grabbed the bottle of water I had put in there yesterday for my morning workout today. No chance at that now. I had last night's decisions to take care of. I made myself breakfast; a milkshake. It wasn't a regular breakfast, but I was tired of my routine. I was tired of eating things just because they were low calorie or high in protein. I wanted to feel everything again. I didn't want to cut off how I felt about Liam, especially now that we were over, I didn't want to keep ignoring my problems with Meegan, I wanted to be here, now and cut out the excuse that there was time to deal with it later. So I closed my eyes and remembered last night, sipping my milkshake through my wired teeth.

**LAST NIGHT**

He held me so nicely that I couldn't help myself. I asked him to stay with me. He agreed to only sleeping and that was fine, but I wouldn't sleep unless I had a shot first.

"Hey, you want to do a shot with me?" He smiled and sat down on my bed.

"Sure. If it makes you feel better." I bit my lip and smiled. I loved his voice. It reminded me of a trip to Ireland I took with my dad and Meegan when we were kids. It was the best time in my life. The warm memory followed me to the kitchen where I got shot glasses, the bottle of Jack and two beers as chasers.

When I came back and saw him relaxing on my bed I was feeling awkward again. I was always socially awkward that was why I was mean to people I just met. I didn't want to try to be nice or funny or charismatic and get laughed at or made fun of. So I went with mean all the time and that made it even harder to be nice. I tried my best to give him a smile. He smiled back. It was cute.

"Here," I said, climbing up onto the bed, holding out a beer. He took it, then a shot glass full of dark liquor, then another and another, right along with me. …

"I want to listen to music!" I exclaimed, running into the living room holding onto the bottle of Jack.

"Al'ight! Wait for me," Murphy called after me as I tuned the radio to the oldies station. The Who suddenly blasted into my apartment.

"Won't the neighbors hear?" He yelled over the music.

"No! This place is solid." I said jumping up on the couch. Murphy jumped up there with me. We laughed and danced until a commercial break. Then we switched to Top 40. Then soft rock came on when we were calming down. I stumbled away from the radio and sat on the couch feeling exhausted. Murphy came from behind the kitchen counter with the bottle of Jack only containing two swigs now and sat next to me. I shifted on the couch to reach for the bottle but I lost by balance and fell into Murphy's lap. We laughed. I rolled over and looked up at him.

"I would never guess you were like this."

"Like what?" I giggled.

"You just giggled like a school girl!"

**MURPHY**

She was out of breath. Her chest was heaving up and down. I couldn't help but watch. I think it was the alcohol. This had happened to me before. Jillian Wickham, who I used to work at the meat-packing plant with, had gotten drunk with me once and I had slept with her. I thanked God we were drunk. If we weren't she would have realized it was my first time.

Connor and I were virgins until we were twenty-three.* Mostly it was because we were picky and girls were always coming at us so it wasn't like we needed to jump on the first chance we got. And things didn't change after that. It was a one-time deal. Until now. Especially now. Jillian was sexy, but she wasn't like Bridget. Bridget was tough and sweet, turned out to be energetic and funny too. I loved all that red hair in my lap, her full lips. I wanted to kiss her so badly, but I felt like I didn't know anything about her.

"So, why boxing?"

"Because it's cool."

"That's all?"

"No, Meegan got into it first. She wanted to know how to defend herself." That struck me as odd.

"Why?"

"Cause Meegan's dad used to beat her and her brother and her mom."

"Jesus Christ…"

"He was good with a belt. He could make her bleed with one whack. She hates him so much."

"Your parents?"

"Are nice, completely normal, worked blue collar jobs until they got white collar ones. Nice normal people."

"Well that's… nice."

"It is." She smiled so beautifully even with all the wires. I couldn't help it. I leaned down and kissed her little nose.

"What was that for?" She asked sweetly. 'I could love her,' I told myself.

"Cause you're so goddam cute." This time I kissed her mouth. She tasted so sweet. Not like the alcohol at all. She slid her hand over the back of my neck and rubbed it a little. It felt so nice. I licked the inside of her lip, remembering that was all I could do. Her mouth was medically shut. Then I remembered her boyfriend.

"Wait, wait, I'm sorry. I forgot about Liam. I'm so sorry."

"We broke up on the phone… I need more alcohol." She bolted from my lap and to the kitchen.

**MEEGAN**

I grabbed another beer from the fridge and then he was right behind me.

"You don't need another beer. You need to calm down, get over him, or just enjoy yourself for a while." That kindness I hadn't felt for years broke me. I threw myself onto him and clung to his form so he wouldn't see my face, my tears, as few as they were. I pulled his face to mine quickly. I kissed him fiercely. He stopped me.

"Wait, why?"

"No one's said something that nice to me… In my life. And it's something I want to keep hearing. So, please," it sounded so harsh through the wires. I had never said a 'please' so desperately. "Please, just stay with me tonight. I need someone to be sweet to me just for a few hours." I put my hands on his chest and looked up into his handsome face. He reached out and put his hands on my hips bringing us closer. He touched our foreheads together, then he nuzzled his face against mine, wiping the tears off my face onto his skin. It seems so cheesy to have a guy comfort me when I was crying. Crying was something I hated to do in front of anyone. I should have felt totally embarrassed but a mix of alcohol and Murphy's sweetness was preventing me.

There must have been something in my eyes. He pressed his cheek to mine and I could feel his warm breath on my ear. "I can be sweet to you for a few hours… I can love you for a few hours too." His lips swept over the skin on my neck and I shivered.

We kissed all the way into the bedroom. I had him sit on the edge of the bed while I started undressing. It was something I always wanted to try for a guy, but Liam was never patient enough. I thought it was a sign that he was really into me. Maybe not.

So I took off my socks first, facing away from Murphy and bending straight down. Then I turned around and took the diamond studs out of my ears sufficiently fluffing my hair as I did. Then I crossed my arms over my chest and grabbed the bottom of my shirt pulling it over my head. I stopped to look at his face. He was completely into it.

"Come here for a second." I moved over to him. He grabbed me by the belt loops on my jeans to bring me between his legs. He looked up at me while putting his lips to my stomach. Then he slid his hands to the button and zipper of my jeans. He helped me out of my jeans. I touched his solid shoulder as I stepped out of them. Then I touched his head and his soft hair; it felt so nice to touch someone again, and not just someone. Murphy McManus's hand slid over my flat stomach, over my underwear. I gasped.

"Ugh, Murphy," was all I could say as he rubbed me through my panties. I was surprised I could feel so much. I was still pretty hammered.

"Come up here." He said taking my hips in his hands again, pulling me up on his lap. He started unhooking my bra.

"You're so helpful," I giggled while leaning to kiss his jaw. "Wait til' I get these wires out of my mouth. I will give you the best blow job you've ever had." He pushed up against me at that and I couldn't help but groan. I was burning up. Then he slowly pulled my bra off and threw it to the floor.

"You're fucking gorgeous," Murphy said looking at my breasts. I wanted to cry again. Liam always said that my boobs were too small and it was because I was too muscular. He wanted me to stop boxing. 'No,' I told myself, 'you're not thinking of Liam right now.' He put his hands over my breasts and squeezed gently.

**MURPHY**

She looked incredible and her 'in-bed' personality was really, really sexy, lively like her personality all day, but sweet now. I put my face to her chest. Bridget sighed and held me to her. I listened to her heart beat in the valley of her breasts. I had never felt this close to a girl before. And she was a girl. I knew she'd been out of school for a while, but not as long as me. I could tell just by her skin. So smooth and soft and white. I wanted to put my face on every inch of it.

She was so beautiful. So I said it. "You're so pretty."

"You're pretty too." I laughed. "But you are! I mean, your eyes…" She said smoothing my eyebrows with her thumbs. "Your cheekbones, mouth," she kissed me sweetly at first then increasingly fierce. I kissed down her neck so she put her face to my ear.

"Murphy," she whispered. "Have sex with me." It was the easiest sentence she'd gotten out all night. It sounded like the wires weren't even there.

**BRIDGET**

He rolled me over onto the bed and then was on me like a wolf. His jeans ground into my panties and warm, soft flesh. I started pulling at the bottom of his shirt. He got up for a second and pulled his shirt over his head. I reached out to touch his skin, it was velvety and hot. He had tattoos and muscles; it was so… manly. There were no other words.

He shed his jeans and I discovered Murphy was not the type to wear underwear. Then climbed back on top of me and I welcomed him with a kiss. I wanted so badly to be able to tongue kiss him. He tangled a hand in my hair and kissed my neck again.

"Ungh, Murph," I used his brother's nickname for him without realizing it. But I could tell he liked it when he pressed his hard cock onto my center. I wanted him so bad. He wanted me just as badly. He started pretty much clawing at my underwear. Then he just ripped them off. I gasped.

"Oh, Bridget," he said feeling my wetness. Then he slid a finger in me.

"Unnnnng. I'm ready."

"Protection?"

"I'm on the pill." He leaned over me again.

"You're, uh, clean, right?"

"Mmhmm."

"Me too." He said low and sweet in that beautiful accent.

He was slow and gentle, going in slowly, carefully adjusting me beneath him. I had the distinct feeling he hadn't done this much before, but he had natural talent. Each movement felt brand new and he was so romantic. He put one hand under my head and stroked my hair with the other. I ran my hands over his smooth back and then put my hands on his ass as he thrust into me, encouraging him to go deeper. He took the cue.

"Ah!"

"You alright? You look worried?" He asked out of breath.

"I'm fine. It feels good. It feels so good." I huffed. That got him going again, faster this time. I was about to lose control. Then he started whispering in my ear.

"Oh, Bridget you feel so good… I wish I could shove my tongue down your throat…" but he didn't say things Liam used to say like, 'no one can fuck you like I can', 'you'll be mine forever'; bull shit like that. I already knew I'd be Murphy's forever. He didn't know much now and he was fantastic. Once he learned he would be perfect. The things he was saying were making me crazy and now that he was going faster and harder I was going to come, which was rare for me. I almost never came when Liam was inside me and I was going to come in a few minutes with Murphy. I wrapped my legs around him and just waited for him to work his magic. It didn't take long.

"Murphy, I'm coming, Murrrrrph!" I grabbed his hair and ran my fingernails down his back. Yeah, I was his forever.

He finished just a bit after me, which was fine because that one orgasm exhausted me. Once he finished he fell on top of me. We breathed heavily together until we could get our words back. Then he said.

"I've been waiting for you."

"Then where have you been? I've been waiting for you too." I smiled at him and he smiled at me. Then he fell asleep in my arms. Murphy McManus, serial killer for God, sweetest man alive, excellent lover fell asleep like a kid in my arms.

**NEXT MORNING**

I snuck back into my room after my breakfast to find Murphy still sleeping so I laid next to him just watching him sleep; his handsome face so serene… until the phone rang.


	9. History Lessons

DO NOT OWN. Thank you for reviews! Makes me happy and encourages me to write more! Sorry I abandoned this story for so long. I know you guys like it and I hope you liked chapter 8!

*In chapter 8 there was one of these - * There are more in this chapter, ***FIND OUT WHY!***

(In chapter 10, sorry!) R&R for revealed secrets…..

**CHAPTER 9:** Meegan, **LOCATION:** Meegan's Room

**NARRATOR**

Meegan hung up the phone hastily and started putting on her shoes, nice ones. Connor, feeling her haste, tried to remember where he put his boots last night. She noticed.

"Over there," she pointed next to the armoire with a piece of her raven hair falling in her face. She was kind of fluffy and out of place. In a strange way it reminded him of Rocco. It had endeared Rocco to everyone probably the same way it endeared Meegan to her friends. She tripped over the area rug under the bed and her heel got caught in clothes on the floor. As she reached down to unhook herself Connor looked at her butt in those skin tight jeans she had been wearing yesterday.

"We gotta go," she said snapping him out of his trance.

"Alright," he agreed, grabbing his coat from the bedpost he put it on last night. Feeling the cigarettes in his pocket he realized how damn hungry he was and how much he wanted a smoke. It was amazing how Meegan could distract him.

Once they got outside Connor thought they would be walking all the way into the city until Meegan pulled keys from her jacket pocket.

"What kind of car?"

"No car, but it's a Honda."

"A motorcycle? It's fucking cold for that shit if ya ask me."

"It's our only option right now." She tossed him a helmet. "If you can't handle it," she said straddling the bike, "Call a taxi." He smiled at her and shook his head. She was a handful. How did her dad handle a daughter like her?

He climbed on the bike behind her. She started the bike and soon they were flying through Boston. The dark visor on the helmet made Connor relax for the first time in years in the city. Meegan took off pretty quick from one of the red lights and he reflexively grabbed onto her solid waist. And he remembered something from years back.

Meegan had gotten him thinking by saying that they knew each other from before. He remembered a little girl with bright blue eyes just staring at the ocean. That couldn't have been Meegan… No way was that little girl this woman. That would make her seven when he was seventeen. Kind of pervy…

As they zipped through Boston Connor was back in Ireland when it was dangerous just to be alive.

The sun was gold and the sky was blue as the ocean. The green hills rolled like bubbles in their mother's rabbit stew as Murphy and Connor were hanging laundry out in the sweet breeze coming up from the sea. Murphy rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. Doing chores was actually a nice change from reading all of his language books. In their room Connor and Murphy could hear kids laughing from the field over the hill behind their house. The breeze carried voices so menacingly. It was driving the twins crazy that other people were enjoying themselves on a Sunday afternoon when they weren't allowed.

After hanging all the laundry they went inside the small house, eyes slowly adjusting to the light. Their mother kissed their cheeks and sent them back to their rooms to practice the last language they were learning, Russian. She had insisted that it would be important someday.

They ate dinner at the dining table as the sun fell below the plateau of the island.

"You boys done with your studies?" Asked the boys' mother.

"Yes, ma."

"That's why we're dead on our feet."

"After dishes you can go out-"

"Alright!"

"Thank you Jesus!" They said at the same time.

"I was not finished." Both the boys' faces fell. There was going to be some time limit, some errand they were going to have to do for her. "You have to stop over the hill at Annie's house and give her that dessert. She has her brother and his children over from America."

The boys gave each other a look like they were getting away with murder. A quick stop at Ada Annie's would be fine. Then they could pick up the rest of the boys at the church and go to the bar. It was supposed to a nice night, so even if they got kicked out of the bar (they usually did) the party didn't have to end.

As Connor did dishes Murphy made calls to all their friends. It only took a few minutes to get everything together. Going to Ada Annie's was the last thing to do. The boys walked over the hill and field that the kids had played on all day. The green grass was tall and the ground was damp from rain earlier in the week. They spoke to each other in Russian as they took their usual path to Annie's. They jumped down onto the road from the retaining wall of the field. Ada Annie's was right there across the narrow dirt road. The house glowed politely in the near dark, surrounded by trees.

"Boys!" Annie exclaimed as she hugged them in the doorway. "You boys remember my brother, Tom."

"Yeah," said Connor remembering vaguely now that he could see Tom's face as he sat at the kitchen table. "How ya doing Tom?"

"Doing fine. You boys are big now. Yer ma keeping ya in line?" He said sternly.

"Yes, sir." They said in unison. Tom and Annie laughed.

"Alright, what'd yer ma make fer us?" Annie asked, letting them move past the door.

"Looks like a pie. Feels like a pie." Murphy said as Annie opened it. "It's a pie!" He exclaimed. Annie shook her head and laughed.

"Girls! Time for dessert!" Tom called. In seconds there were three girls zipping around the living room yelling and laughing. "Bridget, come here. Meet Connor and Murphy."

The biggest girls jumped onto her father's lap. Her huge blue eyes looked up shyly through matted red hair. The littlest one with dark hair ran up and pushed Bridget off her dad's lap before she could say anything.

"I'm Meegan," she yelled waving her tiny hands at them. Bridget had crawled under the table and the third little one was only interested in pie.

"Hi, Meegan. I'm Connor. I hear you're from the states." She made a face and nodded.

"Do you wanna play French revolution with us?" She asked wide-eyed.

"Uh," said Murphy making a confused face. Who played French revolution as a child? "We have to be going. We have friends we already made a play date with."

"Just one game!" Squeaked Bridget, poking her head from under the table. Murphy's face softened. He used to be a lot like her.

"Alright, just one game." Connor agreed, grabbing Meegan from her *dad*. They walked outside into the crisp night with Meegan and Bridget leading the way, but they didn't run to the field. They ran up the road toward town. Maybe they could stop by the church to tell the guys they would be late.

The girls were about to run past the church when Connor caught up with them and picked one up in each arm. "Did you two traitors think you would escape? The aristocracy has you now!" He growled at them as he walked back to the church were Murphy, John, Danny and Phin were waiting.

"Connor! What are ye doing!" Laughed Danny.

"Capturing rebel scum!" The girls laughed.

"Look," Murphy said lowly, "the faster we play this game the longer we get to drink. Help us out will ya?" The boys agreed.

"Wait, are we playing?" Asked John as they followed the girls across the road to an abandoned property with a low fence made of bricks.

"French revolution." Murphy smiled.

"Smart kids," said John.

"Okay, we're here," said Meegan climbing the wall, taking on the personality of a military commander. "I will pick the rev'lutioners and Bridget picks aris'tokacy. I pick Connor." Connor walked to the wall. "You're the best." She whispered to him. On the wall she just reached his ear.

Bridget pointed to Danny after she climbed up on the wall too. He was the biggest. "Really, ya didn' pick me? I'm hurt," said Murphy crossing his arms. Bridget laughed. She had a mean streak, Murphy could tell. Meegan was whispering to Connor again.

"I pick Phinneas." The fair haired, rail-thin boy walked to Meegan's side.

"Really?" Murphy yelled.

"Kids don't like you," said Connor as a matter of fact.

Bridget pointed to John. Murphy couldn't believe it.

"Murphy, you get the best job. You are exe'cu… ex'cue…"

"Executioner," said Bridget darkly.

"Alright! … What does that mean?"

"You stand by the guillotine and when me or Meegan bring you a prisoner; you kill him." Bridget explained that one of the posts for the laundry line was the guillotine and those who were to die, laid down under it, had their head 'chopped off' and 'died'. Good acting during a death won points. Whoever had one live member at the end won.

"Usually Meegan wins; she runs relentless campaigns." Bridget explained to her team as they ran into the woods. The rebels counted to give the aristocrats time to hide. It was easy to play after that; it was complicated hide-and-go-seek.

Phinnaes was caught first, but he had a spectacular death that had Bridget laughing so Murphy gave the rebels extra points. John tried to bring in Connor. Then Meegan reminded him only team captain could bring in prisoners. So she and Connor brought him in instead.

Meegan ran ahead yelling to Murphy. "Cit'zen Murphy, ready the gilly'tine for this foppish dog."

"Okay, that's really insulting," said John as Connor and Meegan made sure he was killed. John was too peeved to have a good death; no extra points. He sat on the wall next to Phinneas. Danny and Bridget were still out there somewhere and to win Connor and Meegan had to go into the woods to try and find them without getting caught themselves.

Meegan was in the woods for a minute before Bridget came out and captured her.

"No!" She yelled as Bridget held Meegan's hands behind her back, like she was being arrested. There was no sign of Connor at the guillotine but Danny was there waiting for his small teammate.

Bridget laid Meegan under the guillotine. "Do I have to kill her?" He asked Bridget.

"Yes, citizen. You must kill the rebel leader," said Bridget too serious for a ten-year-old. Then Connor came up over the wall.

"No! You canne' kill her!" Meegan sat up like a shot. Everyone watched as Connor walked down to the guillotine to save his leader.

"Connor, you can't save her," said John. Murphy couldn't believe how serious everyone was. This was a game, a really cool, badass game, but a game nonetheless.

"I can take her place. It happened in the real revolution. It can happen in the game. Right, Bridget?" Bridget nodded. Connor helped Meegan up and laid down where she had been.

"Murphy, wait," she said, kneeling beside him. "Connor, your sac'ifice will always be remembered." He nodded. Meegan got up and stood as a free member of her own team.

"It's a far better thing I do than I have ever done!" Yelled Connor in his Irish brogue before Murphy pulled the imaginary lever.

"I will avenge you Connor!" Meegan screamed to the sky.

Then it happened. A huge explosion went off behind them. Bridget screamed. Meegan froze. The boys scrambled.

"Meegan! Bridget! Come on!" Bridget ran to Murphy as debris started to fall. What the fuck had blown up? Murphy took her to the other side of the little abandoned house. Murphy used his body to cover her as she struggled to run away. "No, Bridget! Stay with me. You can't move, alright?" She started drying, but stopped trying to run away.

"My ears hurt," she sobbed.

"Me too," he said, fearing more explosions were coming. John, Danny and Phin were gone. Connor and Meegan were nowhere to be seen. "Just pray for everyone." She closed her eyes and started praying. Murphy did too.

Connor had Meegan tucked into the corner of the wall, covering her protectively. He looked up over the wall and tried to see what had exploded. It was the church. Of course it was. He sat back down on the ground, holding Meegan to his side. She hadn't said anything and she didn't appear scared at all. That was creepy.

"You alright?" He asked, startling himself with his own question. She might be quiet because she was hurt. He couldn't see that she was hurt anywhere.

"Are people dead?" Was all she wanted to know.

"In all likelihood, yes, people are dead." He didn't want to lie to her. She grabbed him around the middle and buried her face in his shirt. She didn't cry, but she held on so tight. "We should pray." She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut tight and sent prayers up to the sky.

"We're here, Connor." Meegan said in the parking garage of Bridget's building, bringing him back from that night.


	10. After Thoughts

DO NOT OWN. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews they keep me writing! Shit's going down in this chapter. Dramamamamama. R&R, please!

**CHAPTER 10:** Connor **LOCATION:** Bridget's Apartment

The memory was like a flashbulb going off in the dark. I stood on the other side of the elevator from her just looking at her. In some ways she was still that little girl. She never looked scared and she still had that attitude. My way, highway. She was looking at me too. She remembered earlier this morning. Meegan was in Ireland just like I was. Fuck.

She hit the emergency stop button on the elevator. "You remember." She said. I nodded.

"Hold me?" Her face was in pieces.

"Come here." I held her tightly; one hand on her back and one hand on the back of her head. She buried her face in my t-shirt like she did then. I thought I could smell fire again. I closed my eyes slowly hoping when they were closed I didn't see flames. All I saw was her surrounded by evil men. Everyone I had ever killed standing around her. I couldn't stand it. I heard her gasp.

"Connor," she breathed. I was squeezing her too hard. I let her go like a rubber band snapping.

"Sorry." She stood on the other side of the car from me, looking at the floor.

"It's okay," she said, pushing the button to get the elevator moving again. She finally looked up again with a slice of black hair over her eye. It was how she was then; shaken but not scared, shivering but not screaming.

We got off the elevator and walked the length of the hall stopping at Bridget's apartment. Before Meegan could knock I tried to tell her, "Meegan, I…"

**BRIDGET**

I couldn't explain how it happened by somewhere between pillow talk, eggs and morning news he figured out I was keeping something from him. And I told him, thinking that I could come back from it, but that assumptions seemed so stupid after. And the way he looked at me. I couldn't get that out of my head. I never would.

"I didn't break up with Liam last night. I know how you must feel, but just because it's not official doesn't mean-" His face was… broken…

"No. Stop speaking." He said cut me off. Then silence for a long while.

"That's fine. I don't know what to say."

"That's because there's nothing you can fucking say. I trusted…" His voice faded, he looked confused, like he might cry. It was the worst thing I had ever done. It was the first time since high school I had wanted to cut myself. The temptation was so strong. That face… I'd ruined his life; just because my life was falling apart didn't mean I had to ruin anyone else's. I realized, in that second, I had done exactly that. I felt words bubbling up in my mouth, but when I looked over at him I couldn't say them. He was staring down at the blanket he was wearing because I was washing and drying his clothes. He had trusted me so much. I had fucked this up royally.

"I am so sorry. This isn't like me at all."

"Good to know you only act like an ass around me." He was angry now. That was actually a good sign. I could deal with angry. Then he said something that surprised me. "Don't fucking tell anyone about this."

"Sure. Sure." I agreed quickly. He and I sat there quietly watching re-runs waiting for Connor and Meegan to get there. Where the fuck were they?

After a few minutes I couldn't stop myself, so I got up and went to the bathroom. I couldn't believe I made it there before breaking down. I sat with my back to the door and started crying. Crying with the wires in my face wasn't easy at all. It hurt like hell when I had first gotten them; when my life started falling apart.

I wish I could have just told Murphy what Liam said on the phone, but it was too embarrassing and if I told Murphy he would think what I did was for revenge. It wasn't revenge; I just wanted something different. I wanted someone to love me and he offered. It was too perfect. I should have known.

"Bridget?" It was quiet, but it was my name, and it was Murphy. I wiped my eyes, nose and took a deep breath. I opened the door.

"Yeah?" I said, knowing by his face that he heard me crying. He looked sweet.

"Hey, I know there's something going on with you and I like you. But I'm staying out of it. Okay?"

That crushed me, but what could I expect? I nodded. Then he kissed the top of my head and gave me a quick hug. It was hope. It hurt.

"Can I get my clothes now?"

"Haha, yeah, let me get them," I said. I grabbed my keys in the kitchen and was on my way to the door. When I opened it Meegan and Connor were standing in the hallway like they were chatting. I gave them a look. Maybe they had been up to the same thing Murphy and I did last night.

"Good morning, or afternoon?" I said.

"Aye, afternoon," said Connor. I gave him a fierce stare. No love interest of Meegan's ever went without one from me. I wanted to make sure that they knew she had a bulldog watching out for her. I hoped Connor wasn't the same way about his brother. I'd be dead before dark. I felt the urge to cry again just thinking about what I did. There was no way I'd ever forgive myself. It was one of those things I would never talk about again, just keep it to myself and die slowly.

"Jesus, you need a coat rack," said Meegan looking at my pile of jackets and sweaters. She opened the closet by the entrance, "Or maybe some hangers." I shrugged. Whatever. Meegan commented on my flaws whenever she could. I hardly ever did the same.

"Okay, I'll be back in a second." I said walking past Connor, he gently grabbed my arm. I looked at him and there was something in his face so soft and so sweet it lightened my heart. "Yeah?"

"Where's Murph?"

"He's in my room, channel surfing."

"Cool, thanks. Hope you didn't give him too much hell."

I just nodded and walked out. I didn't want to lie. In the elevator I cried again. There was no one in the laundry room so I washed my face in the sink and waited for my nose to be less red. My red nose was always the tell tale sign that I had been crying. I just couldn't stop thinking about it; how his breath felt on my neck, his voice whispering, how his skin felt on my skin… I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall. I was lost in the memory.

**MEEGAN**

Connor was in Bridget's room talking to Murphy. I looked in the fridge for breakfast. I took out bread and eggs for fried egg sandwiches. I didn't care that I was about to use a ton of butter. I didn't have clear direction since I held a dying stranger who recited a bizarre prayer over me.

There were already dishes in the sink so I assumed Murphy and Bridget had already eaten. I cooked two eggs almost perfectly as I toasted the bread and buttered it. I wondered why Connor and Murphy were talking for such a long time. Maybe they were making plans. Maybe they were talking about how we all knew each other. They were so connected it made me jealous. I had never been that close to anyone, including Bridget. That was my fault though. I had a nasty habit of being jealous of her.

Guys had always liked Bridget better she was prettier than me, more feminine too. She was mysterious and shy then when you got to know her she was sweet and understanding. One of the best listeners I knew. It was hard not to compare myself to her because we were always together and if we weren't friends would ask me where she was. When Bridget was out with our friends somewhere no one asked her about me. It had been that way since high school. People would guess that I was over it seven years later but I still wasn't. Some says I was awful to her because I felt like I could never be as cool or as good a friend as her. Our match against each other was one of those days.

She hit me with a signature shot that was a particularly dirty move. The crowd cheered for her like crazy. I lost it. Within the next four minutes I broke her eye socket and shattered her jaw. I was really lucky I didn't blind her. And as much as I had tried since then I couldn't feel bad about it. I felt vindicated now since I was a crowd favorite and her career was at a turning point, like I was right about something the whole time. It didn't mean I didn't love her. It meant I loved myself more, and I knew that was wrong. I just couldn't fix it.

"Hello? Meegan?" It was Bridget with a pile of clothes in her hands.

"Hey," I said, actually really glad to see her. I was happy to see her when I got to the door this morning, too: memories of Ireland and all.

"I said your name twice," she smiled. "What cha makin'?"

"Fried egg sandwiches."

"Not food for people with a wired jaw."

"I thought you ate-"

"I did, just… commenting." Her face fell a little bit. Something was up. Maybe she was mad at me for the mess we were in. Maybe something bad happened with Murphy. Maybe her and Liam finally fell apart. She had been holding onto the cracks in their foundations for so long now. I hated how he was treating her, but she said she was happy.

"You okay?" I asked quietly. She sighed. That meant she couldn't tell me what was bothering her. That always annoyed the shit out of me. She could trust me, but she never did.

"I will be okay. Let me take this to Murphy." She walked away with the pile of clothes, realizing now that they were Murphy's. _If they…. If he…. I will kill him. _

**MURPHY**

After I got dressed everyone met in the kitchen. Meegan and Connor sat eating and Bridget had her eyes on the table. There was something weird about Bridget and Connor at the same table, especially because I was keeping secrets. Maybe that was the only reason. Connor and I didn't have secrets and we didn't lie to each other.*

"So, what's the plan for today?" Meegan asked, picking up her coffee and sipping it.

"You're gonna learn how to use a gun- both of ya," replied Connor through a bite of sandwich.

"Why me?" Bridget asked, "There's no cross around my neck." She was quiet today, and biting again.

"This is dangerous business. Everyone in our lives has to know how to protect herself." I said, wanting to reach and touch her hand. I had no reason to, she had used me.

"I know how to protect myself," she grumbled, "I carry two lethal weapons every day." She made fists. Meegan smiled into her cup. It was true. If they ever just punched somebody it was assault with a deadly weapon. They were boxers.

"You know what happens to people without guns that go up against people with guns?" Asked Connor. Bridget shook her head like she knew the answer but didn't care. She was too pretty to be this petulant. It was fucking annoying.

"They die. If we use guns we equalize," Connor explained.

"I'm sold," replied Meegan, not knowing Connor said that all the time. There was destiny to them. I was sure of it. Dad had picked Meegan for Connor that's why she was given the cross, not Bridget. I still had a feeling we all knew each other from before.

"Agreed. Also, Meegan and I figured where we had met before." I froze, Bridget did too. We _did_ know each other. "The Church on Finley street-"

I didn't hear anything else he said. I went straight into a memory of fire, ash and a small girl crying as I protected her from debris. Bridget was looking at me with wide blue eyes, glazed over with terrifying memories; things that changed for life. She held her hand over her heart. I was sure her heart was pounding. It was clear we weren't listening anymore. Connor just stopped in the middle his sentence. Meegan was patting Bridget's back.

"You girls are… those kids with the messy hair and untied shoes?" I said, looking between them.

"You're those boys?" Bridget said with her face softening. She was looking at me like she had been last night. Like somebody she liked.

"Aye," said Connor with a serious face. "There's no doubt in my mind and I think it means something."

"Like something big is coming and we have to stay together." Meegan added. My heart started pounding. It had been a huge transition when we took The Saints public, now we were adding new members and anticipating a huge event. On top of what happened last night it was too much. We all just continued to sit and look at each other. Then Bridget spoke.

"Well, then what are we waiting for?"

A/N: Artwork for this story (by my little sister ^_^) is coming soon!


	11. An Education

DO NOT OWN. I officially love my reviewers! There are secrets being revealed, but I'm not sure I'm being clear about what's a 'secret' and what's an 'answer'. One star* is a secret, a secret revealed will be two stars**. I will update old chapters to clear up confusion. Sorry about that!

This chapter is more lemons with Connor/Meegan. Drama between the twins this time. *More secrets revealed*!

**Song lyrics here? Let me know.**

**CHAPTER 11:** Meegan, **LOCATION:** Murray Field, outside Boston

The impromptu shooting range was in the middle of some field in The-Middle-of-Nowhere, Massachusetts. We had driven for at least forty minutes the boys in the front seat, Bridget and I in the back seat, dozing off. At some point we must have stopped at the hotel where the boys were staying; they had guns and sunglasses now. Sexy sunglasses.

Each boy had two guns in holsters under their jackets. I watched as Murphy climbed out of the car without flashing the piece. He was all pro. Connor, too. Connor put an arm around me and gave me a very serious look then he put the piece in my hands.

It was so heavy. They had never looked heavy to me, especially because I was stronger than most, but it was so heavy in my hand. It was cold too. The target was just a piece of paper tacked to some hay bale. Connor told me it would be like punching a punching bag. Not at all the same thing. It was easy to shoot pieces of paper; it wouldn't be easy to shoot someone. They didn't stand still, fear would cloud my head, and the guilt would slow my reaction. I understood.

Bridget stood next to me holding her gun like the dangerous thing it was. She had it pointed down at a forty five degree angle held as far away from her as her arms could reach. It looked silly, but I felt the same way. I was scared to death of what I was holding. I liked a general sense of control and I felt like guns had a mind of their own. Connor could tell me everything about a gun and I would still be terrified to use one.

"You got all that?" He asked when he was done showing us how to load it, unload it, how to take the safety off and that we should never put our finger on the trigger unless we are _going to_ shoot. Bridget nodded quickly, but not moving. Murphy smirked behind her. He thought she was cute. I could tell even if he was wearing sunglasses.

"Yeah, I think so." I answered.

"Okay, pop out the clip," he instructed. We both did. "Put it back in," we did. "Put a bullet in the chamber," both of our guns clicked at the same time. "Alright, aim."

I looked down toward my target and aimed with one hand. The paper looked so small and honestly they were. We would be aiming for the middle of the papers, like aiming for a heart. A shiver went through my body at that moment and I hoped no one saw. They didn't see. They were staring at Bridget.

"Are you left handed?" Murphy asked, looking at Bridget holding her gun.

"Yeah, does it matter?" She said in a voice that sounded like uncertainty. Not a normal tone for her.

"No, Connor's left handed. It's just kind of rare."

"Aye, rare, but cool," Connor said as he and Bridget high fived, left-handedly. I was jealous.

We went back to holding our guns steadily staring at the targets. I could think of a million excuses, but none of them would get me out of this. The cross hung heavy around my neck. I was scared. I didn't like it but I would have to do it. Bridget hadn't wanted to do it either, but she had a fierce look on her face. I took some of that strength for myself and prepared. 'You're not alone,' I told myself, thinking it was nice that Bridget was left handed. That way we could stand open to each other and shoot. It was kind of cool/would make a nice picture.

"Now, kickback on these guns isn't very strong, but it is there. It will mess up your shot if you don't control it," explained Connor standing behind me and reaching forward to my gun, holding it with me. I looked over Murphy was doing the same for Bridget… she was blushing. I felt the sting of heat in my cheeks too.

"Alright, click off the safety," Connor instructed us. My shaking hand took off the safety, but stayed far away from the trigger. Bridget's finger was resting just outside the trigger guard. I did the same thing.

"Ready to fire?" Connor whispered. I gave a cool nod, calming down from even more assurance I was not alone.

**BRIDGET**

"Ready, Bridget?" Murphy whispered to me, sending an invisible chill through my body. Every part of me was on pins and needles. This was like the top of a roller coaster. I hated to admit it, but having a gun in my hand was fucking exciting.

I looked over to Meegan who was shaking just a bit. I knew the minute she pulled the trigger she'd never be without a gun again. I smiled, she looked confused. Her light blue eyes wild, bangs falling out of her ponytail.

I nodded my head to Murphy. He put his hand over mine. Ready to take the kick back for me. I realized how important that was. Feeling the kick back with someone else was going to be important. I had laughed at plenty of internet videos of dumb chicks holding guns wrong and getting hit in the face with kick back. I giggled thinking about. Meegan finally smiled.

"Girls, fire on three," said Connor loudly.

"One," said Murphy.

"Two…" Connor.

"Three…" Murphy said followed by two perfectly timed gun shots; it sounded like just one. The crack of gunfire was deafening and the gun jumped wildly before Murphy clamped down on it with me. Meegan and I locked eyes before we even looked at the targets. Yeah, we would never go unarmed again.

**CONNOR**

After some more practice the girls gained ground on us. They became pretty good shots after two clips. Once they realized it was about body placement and a bit of luck they got it down good. Almost too good. I didn't know if I was impressed or scared. I knew Meegan was my ally but I didn't doubt for a second that Bridget would shoot me in the knee. She was tougher than a soccer ball. She hadn't even asked to keep the gun. She just tucked it into the front of her jeans. Bridget Kelly with deep red hair, ivory skin, freckles and big blue eyes; dangerous chick. I would have to ask Murph how he survived the dragon lady last night.

As we all got out of the car I caught a look at Meegan midriff in the side view. I could not handle myself around her. I was constantly objectifying her. Sure, I liked her, but I wanted to have sex with her more. It was uncharacteristic. Or was it? I was terribly practical about most things. It was practical to want Meegan. She was beautiful, all kinds of wild, young, restless and she wanted me too. It was only practical for me to want her so badly. It was just strange that my father sent her to me. Maybe he had sent Bridget to Murph, too, but that didn't make it any less curious. I didn't know. I decided to just figure it out as I went along.

After sandwiches Murph and I split off to talk about things as well as the girls. I closed the door to the empty bedroom as Meegan closed the door to Bridget's room. I turned to Murph.

"So how was the dragon lady last night?" I asked. He smirked. That was not what I was expecting.

"You have no idea." There was something in his eyes that wasn't as playful as he was trying to be. There was something off.

"Did you… ?"

"Yup. It was fantastic."

"She's got a boyfriend."

"I guess she doesn't care," he snorted, sounding peeved.

"You two aren' actin' like anything happened," I said, feeling a bit destroyed that Murphy had had sex twice now and I hadn't. My face was burning up. He could tell I was feeling off. Sometimes it was awful to be so in tune.

"What's the big deal? We've done this before," he said sitting on the futon, stretching out. Then his face changed. I had exposed myself. "You haven't. Fuck! I am so fucking stupid. Everyone thinks they can just lie to me."

I wasn't expecting this. Who was lying to him? "No, I haven't had sex. Sorry I lied."**

"Yeah, yeah," he said just dismissing my apology.

"Who's lying to ya?"

"You, Bridget… you know what? I don't care. Have fun with all you fucking lies."

"Has it occurred to you that I didn' tell you cause I was embarrassed?"

He sulked. He knew that was the reason he just wanted to throw a tantrum. Something was eating him and he wasn't talking about it. If he wasn't talking to me then he wasn't going to talk to anyone else. No one could even torture it out of him.

"Well, just screw Meegan then," he said simply. "Oh, sorry, 'make love' to Meegan."

"Which did you do with Bridget?" I asked, giving him the eye our dad would have given him. He covered his eyes with his hand and sighed. Shit. He made love to her. What had happened between then and today? It was just a few hours ago they 'made love'.

"Do what you want, man. I'm gonna go watch the television."

**MURPHY**

It took us all of two seconds to realize the girls were gone. "Fuck!"


	12. Fight and Flight

DO NOT OWN. Thanks to all the reviewers! The action really gets started in this chapter, love stories continue. I'm hoping to get the next chapter out really quickly. I know you guys don't like cliffhangers! BWAH HA HA HA!

"**It feels like it beats you up/ it feels like it knocks you out/**

**It feels like a kiss on the mouth." –Our Lady Peace, Kiss on the Mouth**

**CHAPTER 12:** Bridget** LOCATION: **Meegan's rented room

"Goddammit that motorcycle is loud," I complained as Meegan grabbed her gloves. Nick had called her cell when we were talking in my room. There was no way she was going to pass on a fight; she was broke. Hell, she wouldn't have missed it if they were paying her in grapes.

"Thank you so much for coming with me," she said so sincerely it didn't sound like her. She stopped her hurried movements to look at me through dark strands of hair.

"Sure, no problem. You know I love this shit." I watched her grab all of her boxing stuff; mouth guard, hair ribbons, cherry red gloves, the most recent championship belt and an 'ivory' cover up stick. That was the secret weapon. If your opponent can't see where you're hurt they can't exploit that. It even hides swelling since there's no color difference. She pulled jeans over the shorts she just put on and we were out the door again. All we had to do was wait out the last two hours before the fight.

"You feel bad for ditching the boys?" She asked as she locked the door behind her.

"What do you mean 'ditch' them? They'll find us tonight," I said, so sure they would. She laughed like a bird, light and small. She was so different today.

"Wait, why do you have to be there for the early matches?" I asked as we climbed back on the motorcycle.

"I'm referee for the first two, I get ready during the third and_ then_ I fight. They moved up the whole schedule cause it's getting dark earlier." The wind came in from the west chilling me to the bone, it rosed my cheeks and showed my breath. Damn it was cold, but the motorcycle was the only choice right now. When it snowed we would use my car or she would catch a taxi. Winter matches brought in a lot more money for reasons we couldn't grasp. More people got dry cleaning in the winter too. So around Christmas we were both rolling in dough.

"I can't wait for it to snow." I said and Meegan nodded. I was so ready for the holidays this year, last year was not the best but I was ready this year. Probably cause I was in love. At that thought I blanched white. 'Woah.' I put on my helmet as Meegan started the bike.

"Okay, hold on," she yelled, knowing I'd hear it like a whisper.

**MEEGAN**

The basement was flush with steam heat, coming off the radiators, coming off the crowd. It was _hot_ and Mary McDonald was just knocked out. I declared Chelsea Kilpatrick the winner. I stood in the ring by myself as Chelsea slid out and celebrated her win by giving her boyfriend a bloody kiss. I winked at Bridget from the ring. It had been about three hours and the boys still hadn't found us. We were pretty proud of ourselves.

I slid out of the ring as Nick announced the next fighters. "Hey, you," I yelled over the crowd to Bridget, "Come with me." We walked back to the little store room used as the changing room. The light over head was just enough to see your outline in the small mirror fixed to the wall. It felt a lot more like a prison cell than was comfortable. She closed the door behind herself as I pulled off my jacket. The smell of my sweat hit my nose like a ton of bricks. I smelled nervous. I hadn't been training this week and I hadn't had a fight for six days.

"You okay?" Bridget asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"You just stopped taking your jacket off."

"I did. I think I'm nervous."

"That's good you'll fight like an animal. Come on, now drink some Gatorade, you're losing fluids."

"Bridget… I haven't had a corner man since you started boxing too… be my corner tonight?"

She just looked at me for a second. I could only imagine all the suspicious thoughts going through her head. Her pale freckled face gave nothing away for long moments. "Yeah, we'll be unstoppable," she said finally smiling as much as she could. Those wires had to go. How long had it been?

"Who are you fighting tonight?"

"Some girl Miriam Wood. She's from New York."

"Huh… Why is Nick bringing in other talent?"

"Probably because I beat the shit out of Molly Kildare."

Bridget's eyes grew wide. "What the fuck? How come you didn't tell me you little shit?" She laughed. Molly had beat Bridget pretty badly before the fight between Bridget and I. In my fight with Molly I had gotten a little revenge for what she did to Bridget. I should have told her, but I had almost forgotten anything that happened that night other than…

"Sorry, it slipped my mind. That was the night I was given my cross." There was silence for a moment.

"Well, I'm proud of you," she said patting my head. I giggled at that. She was really cute sometimes and Liam never noticed that. He usually took her for granted. I was in a catch twenty-two about their relationship. I wanted them to be happy, but Bridget would only be happy with Liam and Liam would be happier with someone else. I didn't want to tell her that. I didn't even want to think it. They used to be a really good couple but she grew up and he didn't. He avoided college by joining the military. She begged him not to do it. She screamed and cried, falling to her knees when he told her. It was awful because Liam and I had watched our mother do things like that all the time. It was even worse for me cause I could tell he barely cared. It was history repeating and I was relieved he was going off to boot camp soon. None of that meant I didn't love him or miss him, but it was easier to love him from a distance. He was my rock through our childhood, but we were adults now and I did alright on my own.

"You talked to Liam, right?"

"Yeah, he told me he was in love… with another marine**. She knows what he's going through and all that stuff. I would guess they're a lot… better fit."

I couldn't believe it. She wasn't ready to kill someone. She was so… calm. "A better fit is a better fit, right? Did he break up with you?"

"No. Well, he didn't tell me it was over. I kind of just hung up on him." That sounded more like her. Make her angry and she won't talk to you… for a while.

"Well, I would guess if he's talking to you about another girl then he thinks it's over." I tried to explain. She sighed.

"I hope it's over," she mumbled.

"You do? Why?" I was flabbergasted.

**MURPHY**

We finally found out where the fight was and arrived just as the sun went down. The outside of the building look abandoned but it was literally shaking. The whole place was thumping like a heart and Joan Jett's song 'Bad Reputation' was ripping out from the basement windows and stairs. That was where the fight was.

Connor and I broke into the first floor and found an unguarded staircase to the basement. We weren't paying a cover to grab Bridget and Meegan and drag them out of there. Connor was overly angry, too angry. I didn't know why this got to him so much. To me it was kind of cool, just like Bridget thought it was. But Connor was fuming. I thought he might kill Meegan when he found her. He was yelling in the car about betrayal. He wasn't even worried about being recognized.

We got down to the basement and snuck into the crowd. It was electric. There were tons of people packed in tight, yelling and the music was blasting. The ring was smaller than I would have guessed but the woman in the ring was huge. She was six feet tall at least and weighed two hundred pounds easy. I felt bad for the girl that had to fight her.

"You see the girls?" Connor asked over the noise. I shook my head.

"Let's wait a second, alright? This is what the girls do for fun. We should watch."

**CONNOR**

Maybe Murphy was right. Now that I was here this didn't seem all that bad. It was like regular boxing, no one was exploited. The girl in the ring had a completely modest outfit on. Then again she was huge. She wasn't even in Meegan's weight class.

"Now for everyone's favorite fighter!" Said the announcer as the song 'Crazy Bitch' started playing, you know, 'you're a crazy bitch, but you fuck so good, etc.' "Gooood Friiiiidaaaaay!" Meegan bounded in from a side door wearing a small pink sports bra and really short red shorts. My blood boiled.

"Fuck! It's Meegan. Is she gonna fight that chick?" Murph yelled over the music as Meegan walked in with Bridget following her with a small bag, bucket and water bottle. Meegan had a good poker face, but she had no idea she was fighting that girl. Maybe this would teach her a lesson.

Her eyes kept flicking to the announcer. 'He must arrange the matches,' I thought. Serves her right for trusting scum like him. I crossed my arms and waited for the fight to start.

"You're just gonna let this happen?" Murphy nearly squeaked at me.

"You said we should watch. So we are."

He shook his head at me and started shoving his way to Meegan's corner. Bridget turned in the small space she had and they were face to face. Bridget flushed bright pink. There were signs they had been together and I missed them earlier.

Murphy was yelling over the music, Bridget was looking pretty fierce between looking worried. Eventually he walked back to where I was.

"You're right. Let them do what they want."

"And we will watch."

As soon as the bell rang the big girl took a swing at Meegan. It was slow but her reach was a lot longer than Meegan had guessed and the hit knocked her on her ass. The big girl laughed and gave Meegan time to get up. Her eyes were unfocused until she caught sight of me. Then her eyes focused and her face hardened. _Now_ we were going to see a fight.

Once she was on her feet and moving the big girl took another swing. Meegan ducked it and gave her a hard punch in the stomach. The big girl saw it coming and tensed her hard muscles. It hurt her but the impact was a lot less. From there strategy kept evolving. Meegan was like a chameleon, seeing each hit coming and changing defense along with offense. It was incredible. Most boxers had a style. Meegan's style was _every_ style.

"Impressive," shouted Murphy never taking his eyes off the fight.

I hated to admit it, but she was a really good boxer. I wondered why she wasn't on a legitimate circuit. This could have been her true profession. She would be making more money, have real fame, even keep her persona. Why did she do it? Why was she an underground boxer?

"I think this is almost over," Murph said over the sound. I checked my watch. Twenty minutes had gone by and both women looked pretty beaten. The only difference between underground boxing and regular boxing was showmanship. Professional boxers took their time and they had rounds. In underground boxing they said 'go' and what happened… happened.

Meegan staggered to her corner where Bridget had placed the bucket and spit blood into it. Then she puked into it. I grimaced and looked away. I usually had a cast iron stomach but watching people puke was always gross.

Another ten minutes went by and Bridget kept looking at Murphy and I with a pained expression on her face. Finally the big girl was face down in the ring and Meegan was on her knees, bleeding from her nose, mouth and eyebrow. She forcefully spit out her mouth guard. She looked up into the light above the ring and screamed. Everyone went quiet. "Yoooooou!" She screamed pointing a blood soaked glove at the announcer.

"You want to get paid, McLeod?"

"Fuck you!" She yelled, spitting blood. Bridget slid into the ring and helped Meegan up. She started to drag her away. "I will kill you, Nicky-boy. I'll kill you!"

Everyone was quiet as Murphy and I rushed to help Bridget get Meegan back out the door they came in from. We gathered the girl's coats and stole a robe from some other girl to wrap Meegan in. Eventually she found her feet and we all walked outside together. I sat next to her in the backseat as we rushed back to Bridget's apartment. This was apparently tradition.

She slumped as we went through a turn and fell on to my shoulder.

"Sorry, sorry," she whispered, trying to get up

"It's alright, darling," I said, putting my arm around her and my hand on her head.

"I'm so ugly right now," she moaned.

"No you're not. You're just beat up. You do look nice with your hair back." She was quiet after that.

I walked into the living room around 2 AM, guessing everyone would be asleep and I could have just a bit of alone time and some space to think. But Meegan was in there, sitting on the couch freshly showered, wrapped in a different robe with butterfly bandages on her eyebrow. I guess during the fight Bridget had been putting makeup on her to make her look less beaten. When they rinsed it off almost her whole face was purple. She had iced her face really well and now she only had a few splotches of purple. But now she looked so sad.

"What are you thinking?" I asked quietly.

"Just that I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For running away. It was another of my shining moments on the pedestal of stupidity." She sighed. I sat next to her on the couch.

"I thought it was enlightening, though scary and horrifying at moments."

"This from a man who's murdered a dozen people." She was giving me a judgmental look.

"I'm surprised by your judgment. I would think someone who had my wanted poster hangin' in their closet thought better of me."

She buried her face in her hands and made an embarrassed noise. That was wrong of me. "Hey," I said, pulling on her wrist just a bit, "I'm sorry, just look at me alrigh'?"

She looked up with her gorgeous blue eyes sparkling. I touched her face, lightly. I didn't want to hurt her anymore than she had been hurt. I traced her cheekbone and jaw, taking her chin in my hand I leaned forward. My heart was racing. I had only kissed a couple girls and they had kissed me first. We were so close I could feel her breath on my mouth. I didn't want to kiss her if she didn't feel like I did. I cautiously put my hand on her breast plate. Her heart was pounding too. She was nearly climbing into my lap. Meegan wanted to kiss me… badly.

"You're being patient," I smirked just an inch away from her mouth.

"You told me to be, so I am."

I ran my thumb over her bottom lip. Her mouth was so soft, though a bit swollen. I would have to be really, _really_ careful. Our mouths touched softly and we kissed sweetly. Our mouths clung over and over again. She didn't seem to care she was hurt. As we kissed she licked the inside of my lips and I sighed burning breath into her mouth.

She maneuvered herself onto my lap. I resisted the strong urge to grab her hips and grind into her center. All sorts of involuntary things were happening just because she was straddling me. She looked like a goddess with all that hair and eyes so light they looked like they were glowing. With my hand still on her chest I could feel her heart quickening. She put her hand on mine, moving it lower into the robe.

"No," I breathed. "It's okay, you don't have to."

"I want you to. It feels good."

"You sure?" I asked. She nodded, biting her bottom lip like she did this morning when I woke up next to her.

I slid my hand down into her robe to find only soft flesh. She sighed and let her head fall back, hair falling over her shoulders. I couldn't believe this was happening. I hoped I wasn't dreaming. She moaned as I brushed her nipple. This was real. She started pulling at the shoulders of the robe, pulling them down. I leaned forward and kissed her collarbone.

"Bite," she whispered to me. I didn't hesitate. I took a nice bite into her shoulder. She gasped and grabbed the hair on the back of my head. It was oddly natural; biting and hair-pulling. Then she moved her hand between us and down.

"No. No stop. No."

"I'm sorry sorry sorry," she said as I started getting up from underneath her. She got off me and covered her face. I stood.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm the one acting strange. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" I asked touching her hands clutching her face. She moved her hands and gave me one last sweet kiss.

"Goodnight."

A/N: Hope you're reviewing! Also, that art is on the way. My sister promised. (Here's looking to you Haylee!)


	13. Do Chapter Titles Matter?

DO NOT OWN. Thanks to the reviewers, especially katiekaboom3824 and anzbananz for all the love. Sorry for the brevity. Next chapter will be Meegan and Connor.

**CHAPTER 13:** Bridget, **LOCATION:** Bridget's car

"**Stop asking me questions. I'd hate to see you cry." **

–**Mama, My Chemical Romance**

**ONE WEEK LATER**

"Whhhhhy are we here?" I whined, banging my head on the steering wheel. Murphy threw his balled up McDonald's bag at me. The car smelled deliciously of fries. I had refused food earlier cause I was being stubborn and I was regretting it now.

"We're here followin' an escaped convict," he said, slouching down in the passenger seat.

"Why is this our job? What are Meegan and Connor doing?" I crossed my arms and turned to sit against the window.

"Meegan and Connor are doin' what we're doing, but they're followin' his partner. Calm your ass." He had been like this the past week. He was getting grumpier and grumpier. I wasn't helping today.

"Sorry I'm cranky. We've been doing this everyday and I get like this when I haven't eaten," I said looking up through the sunroof at the blue sky. It was really nice out for November.

"What would you 'ave eaten? They can't blitz a burger in the McFlurry machine," He said smiling. I laughed at that. When I admitted I was being bitchy his humor usually improved. I loved it when he smiled. He almost never smiled with teeth, but that was fine. His eyes glowed. It always made me happier just to see it. Then I realized we were just staring at each other for the last couple minutes. He hadn't realized yet. I was not going to say anything.

**MURPHY**

I wasn't sure if she had noticed we were just staring, but I wasn't going to say anything. Then I spotted our target. The worst part of following our target was that he just looked like any other guy. Nothing was that special about him except all his acne scars.

"There he is… Don't look!"

"What am I supposed to do?" She shot back, gripping her seat.

"Just keep talking like this. We want to look casual," I said as our target, Mark Foster, lit up a cigarette outside of the building he was staying in. It was a nicer building downtown so we guessed the bank robbery four days ago was him and his partner up to their old tricks. No way he could afford that place straight out of jail. Unfortunately money doesn't last forever and they would have to rob another bank.

"What is Foster doing?"

"Smoking," I said, putting my hand over my mouth.

"So, why are we after this guy? I know he escaped from prison, but aside from that you haven't told me anything." Her stare was so open. Her huge blue eyes sparkled gorgeously. I would hate to shatter that innocent look.

I had been avoiding telling Bridget since we started following Foster. When Connor told Meegan she cried then begged Connor to kill Foster and Smileck as soon as possible. The first time we spotted Foster I saw Bridget shiver. She knew this guy was bad news. She knew it in her soul, like I knew it in mine.

"You sure you wanna hear?"

"I've spit my own teeth into a bucket. I can handle whatever guts and gore you have to tell me." I gave her a long hard look as Foster started another cigarette. He was waiting for someone.

"Foster and Smileck rob banks, but that ain't the worst of it." I watched her thoughts race as her beautiful face fell dark. "To psych themselves up for a robbery they kidnap a girl, and… and they… must I continue?"

"Yes," she replied firmly, looking angrier by the second. When I met Bridget I knew she had the ability to hate. Now I would see it.

"They kidnap a girl, and rape her for days. Then they kill her. The worst is that they don't just shoot her. They do things like slit her wrists and thighs, or inject her with poison after poison-"

"That's all I need to know."

"I thought it would be," she was silent for a while. "You handled that better than Meegan. She cried."

"For a minute there I thought I was going to."

**BRIDGET**

We waited another half hour talking and deciding when the best time to kill Foster was. I was honestly excited to have blood on my hands. I wanted Foster to die like I wanted to be a millionaire, like I wanted to live, like I wanted Murphy to love me back.

"I think someone is here. Yeah, look! There he goes!" He said leaning over me to look out my window. "Remember this," he said. But all I could think about was his scent and looming presence, "2-5-5 O-A-T, New Jersey. Got it?"

"Yeah," I said, surprised I could hear. My heart was pounding in my ears. He threw things around the car until he found his little notebook and pen in his 'spying bag'.

"Repeat it."

"2-5-5 O-A-T, New Jersey."

"Hell yeah, girlie!" He threw his arms around me and kissed me on the mouth. Time stopped for a second as our faces stayed close. I tried for a second kiss, but he pulled away and retreated to the other side of the car. He looked mad as hell. My heart was splintering.

I had tried to convince myself earlier that I didn't really know Murphy. I had known him for a day. I couldn't be in love with the real Murphy. As time went on it was becoming clear to me that Murphy was the same person everyday of the week and he was the genuine article. There was no Murphy before and there would be no Murphy after. I loved one person. And I know it sounds crazy, but I was hoping, just hoping the boys were immortal. Then I remembered their father died. They were just people. They could bleed to death on a lonely street, in a pile of garbage.

"Let's meet up with Connor and Meegan at the Marriot."

"Can do," I said shifting into gear and holding back tears.


End file.
